PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE  NEW  ENGLAND  CATHOLIC 
HISTORICAL  SOCIETY 

No.  8 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  AND 
MISSIONARY  LABORS 

OF 

REV.  JAMES  FITTON 


BY 

rev.  l.  p.  McCarthy,  p.  r. 


BOSTON.  1908 


PRINTED  FOR  THE  SOCIETY 

GEORGE  E.  CROSBY  COMPANY 
234  Congress  St.,  Boston 


JWSTO*  O0U-*« 
CUKSTHUT  BILLs 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE 


IS 
N 5 


NEW  ENGLAND  CATHOLIC 
HISTORICAL  SOCIETY 


No.  1.  By-Laws  and  First  Report. 

No.  2.  Early  Irish  Catholic  Schools  of  Lowell. 

By  Rt.  Rev.  Louis  S.  Walsh,  D.  D. 

No.  3.  The  Acadians  of  Madawaska. 

By  Rev.  Chas.  W.  Collins,  Portland,  Me. 

No.  4.  Pilgrim,  Puritan  and  Papist  in  Massachusetts. 

By  Helen  Nordhoff  Gakgan 

No.  5.  Father  Sebastian  Rasle,  S.  J. 

By  Rev.  Arthur  T.  Connolly 

No.  6.  Centenary  of  Holy  Cross  Church,  Franklin  St.,  Boston. 

No.  7.  Rev.  Francis  A.  Matignon,  D.  D. 

By  Rev.  Arthur  J.  Connolly 

No.  8.  A sketch  of  the  Missionary  Labors  of  Rev.  James  Fitton 
in  New  England. 

By  L.  P.  McCarthy,  A.  M., 
Rector  of  Church  of  the  Holy  Redeemer,  E.  Boston. 


WEILL  LIBRARY 

3ST0N  COLLEGE 


IST  fA 


SKETCH  of  the  LIFE  AND  MISSIONARY 
LABORS  of  REV.  JAMES  FITTON 
by  rev.  l p.  McCarthy,  p.  r. 


In  the  Archives  of  our  Cathedral  of  the  Holy  Cross,  one 
may  find  precious  letters,  documents,  records,  etc.,  that  bear 
testimony  to  the  labors  of  bishops  and  clergy  and  to  the 
piety  and  sacrifices  of  the  children  of  the  church  throughout 
the  extent  of  the  six  States  that  now  form  the  Ecclesiastical 
Province  of  Boston.  Amongst  these  are  the  records  of  births 
marriages,  and  deaths  reaching  back  beyond  the  century. 

One  such  book  we  will  open  and  under  date  of  the  year 
1805  produce  the  following  entry : “April  13,1  baptized  James, 
born  10th  inst.  of  Abraham  and  Mary  Fitton:  Sponsors, 
Michael  Keating  and  Bridget  Keefe.”  Signed  Francis  A. 
Matignon. 

This  record  of  birth  and  baptism  marks  the  coming 
into  natural  and  spiritual  existence  of  one  who,  in  the  Provi- 
dence of  Almighty  God,  was  destined  to  be  the  great  Mission- 
ary of  our  Faith  in  the  six  New  England  States.  I say  the 
great  missionary,  advisedly.  For  I am  not  unaware  that 
the  soil  of  New  England  has  been  trod  and  retrod  by  the 
messengers  of  salvation  for  almost  two  centuries.  The 
different  States  have  each  their  favorite  sons  who  labored 
zealously  within  their  borders.  Some  of  these  toilers  went 
beyond  the  confines  of  their  State,  and  labored  in  two  or 

17H‘J7 


4 


three  States.  Some  spent  many  years  at  the  task.  Some, 
a few  years.  To  one  and  all  we  give  due  credit,  but  after 
everything  is  said  we  will  find  that  James  Fit  ton,  over  whom 
the  saintly  Matignon  poured  the  waters  of  baptism,  far  sur- 
passed the  others,  both  in  point  of  time  employed  and  in 
extent  of  ministration.  Where  other  missionaries  served 
more  or  less  years  he  served  a full  quarter  of  a century. 
Where  one  or  another  State  secured  their  attention,  his 
labors  extended  from  one  end  of  Newr  England  to  the  other. 

He  ministered  from  Eastport  and  the  New  Brunswick 
line  on  the  northeast,  to  Burlington  and  Lake  Champlain  on 
the  north  west;  from  Boston  in  the  east  to  Great  Barrington 
in  the  Berkshire  Hills  in  the  w’est;  from  Providence  and  New- 
port in  the  southeast  to  Bridgeport  and  the  New  York  State 
line  in  the  southwest. 

The  father  of  the  Subject  of  our  sketch,  Abraham  Fitton, 
was  born  in  Preston,  England.  He  was  proud  of  his  native 
city  and  her  people.  For  Preston  in  days  gone  by  had  the 
glory,  during  the  persecutions  against  the  church,  of  remain- 
ing true  to  the  Catholic  religion.  Again  and  again  the  hire- 
lings of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  Stuart  Kings  had  tried  but 
without  avail  to  force  the  new  Protestant  religion  upon  her 
people.  By  resistance  to  repeated  assaults  they  became 
stronger  instead  of  weaker.  Every  new  attack  only  made 
them  truer  to  the  old  faith. 

He  came  to  Boston  when  a young  man,  and  in  1801  was 
married  in  the  old  French  Huguenot  Church.  This  church 
was  originally  built  by  French  Protestants  and  stood  on 
School  Street  about  midway  between  the  present  Parker 
House  and  Washington  Street.  Owing  to  diminution  in 
numbers,  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Catholics  of  Boston 
in  1788,  and  was  the  first  organized  Catholic  Church  in  the 
city. 

Abraham  Fitton  wras  one  of  the  congregation  of  one 
hundred  Catholics  that  regularly  met  here  for  divine  service 
in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century.  When  the  new  church 


5 


of  the  Holy  Cross  on  Franklin  Street  was  projected  he  was 
one  of  those  who  aided  in  its  erection,  helping  it  along  both  with 
purse  and  hearty  encouragement.  Soon  after  marriage  he 
went  to  Charleston,  S.  C.,  but  he  remained  there  only  a short 
time.  On  his  return  to  Boston  he  opened  a shop  adjacent 
to  his  residence  and  resumed  work  at  his  trade  which  was 
that  of  a wheelwright. 

Mary  Fitton  his  wife,  the  mother  of  our  missionary,  was 
of  Welsh  extraction  and  a convert  to  the  church  before 
marriage.  She  lived  to  a very  advanced  age  and  through 
life  was  noted  for  her  sturdy  Catholicity.  She  never  ceased 
to  thank  God  for  the  priceless  gift  of  faith.  Until  the  failure 
of  her  eyesight,  she  read  faithfully  every  day  a chapter  of  the 
Following  of  Christ.  Mrs.  Fitton  was  an  intimate  friend  of 
the  mother  of  our  late  Archbishop  and  the  latter  once  told 
me  that  one  of  his  earliest  recollections  was  to  accompany  his 
mother  and  Mrs.  Fitton  to  a display  of  fireworks  on  Boston 
Common  on  a Fourth  of  July  night. 

James  Fitton,  whom  we  will  call  the  missionary,  was 
born  in  Boston  at  the  corner  of  Milk  and  Devonshire  Streets, 
on  the  site  of  the  present  Boston  Post  Office,  and  less  than  a 
stone’s  throw  from  the  spot  where  twelve  years  later  was 
born  another  defender  of  the  faith,  Rt.  Rev.  John  B.  Fitz- 
patrick— third  Bishop  of  Boston.  The  youth  of  James 
Fitton  was  spent  in  attendance  at  the  schools  of  his  native 
town.  Before  the  opening  of  school  in  the  morning  he  would 
drive  his  father’s  cows  to  pasturage  on  Boston  Common,  and 
after  school’s  dismissal  for  the  day,  would  bring  them  back 
for  the  evening  milking.  After  some  years  the  family  re- 
moved to  the  old  Gov.  Dearborn  Estate  in  Roxbury,  where 
now  stands  the  Mission  Church.  From  his  new  residence  he 
would  walk  every  morning  over  Boston  Neck,  past  the  site  of 
the  present  Cathedral,  to  the  church  on  Franklin  Street,  to 
serve  Mass.  This  wrasalong  trip  in  the  heats  of  summer,  with 
but  little  shade  to  protect  one  from  the  burning  sun’s  rays. 
It  was  still  more  trying  in  winter  when  snowy  weather  was  en- 


6 


countered  and  unbeaten  roads  were  the  rule,  rather  than  the 
exception.  No  doubt  God  was  unconsciously  preparing  the 
youth  for  those  journeyings  that  were  for  many  years  to  be 
the  great  feature  of  his  life.  At  the  proper  season  of  the 
year,  he  never  failed  on  returning  from  church  to  bring  home 
to  his  mother  his  hat  filled  with  choice  mushrooms  collected 
from  the  roadside  and  fields,  where  now  nothing  can  be  seen 
save  solid  business  and  residential  blocks. 

We  have  in  our  possession  a certificate  of  good  conduct 
and  scholarship  given  him  at  this  period  of  his  life  by  Master 
Sewall.  Bishop  Cheverus  pleased  with  the  fidelity  of  the 
boy,  and  knowing  well  the  good  stock  from  which  he  sprung, 
advised  him,  after  questioning  with  regard  to  vocation,  to 
take  up  the  study  of  Latin.  Having  finished  his  preliminary 
studies  he  was  sent  for  the  completion  of  his  classical  course 
to  the  Academy  at  Claremont,  N.  H.  The  Principal  of  the 
Academy  was  Virgil  Horace  Barber,  one  of  the  notable  fam- 
ily of  converts  of  a century  ago.  Virgil  Barber  had  been  a 
Protestant  minister;  he  and  wife,  son  and  four  daughters 
became  converts.  The  father  and  son  afterwards  became 
Jesuit  priests,  his  wife  and  one  daughter,  Visitation  Nuns,  the 
three  other  daughters,  Ursulines.  Mary,  one  of  these  latter 
was  a Sister  in  the  Ursuline  Convent  at  Charlestown  the  night 
it  was  burnt  by  a mob.  Virgil’s  father,  a minister,  became  a 
convert  as  also  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Tyler,  with  her  son,  who  later 
became  first  Bishop  of  Hartford,  and  four  daughters,  all  of 
whom  died  Sisters  of  Charity. 

To  this  Academy  at  Claremont  also  came  at  this  time 
two  young  men,  who  afterward  were  to  make  their  mark  in 
the  religious  life  of  New  England,  William  Tyler  and  William 
Wiley.  Virgil  Barber  had  before  conversion  been  the  Presi- 
dent of  an  Academy  at  Fairfield,  N.  Y.  for  many  years.  He 
wTas  therefore  well  equipped  and  able  to  inform  the  minds 
of  his  young  pupils  with  all  the  necessary  secular  knowledge. 
An  incident  will  show  that  he  could  also  edify  them  by  the 
fervor  and  decorum  of  his  life. 


7 


A few  years  before  Father  Fitton’s  death,  one  of  Virgil’s 
daughters  wrote  him  from  her  convent  home,  and  requested 
any  facts  of  interest  which  he  might  have  regarding  her 
father.  Amongst  other  things  our  missionary  wrote  her 
as  follows:  “When  the  College  of  Claremont  was  in  full 
progress  and  the  house  adjoining  was  occupied  by  students 
our  curiosity  was  excited  to  know  if  your  father  ever  slept, 
and  if  so,  where  did  he  sleep.  And,  behold  we  found  his 
bed  to  consist  of  a narrow  strip  of  carpet  unfolded  at  night 
on  the  floor  and  then  folded  in  the  morning  and  hid  in  a 
corner  of  the  closet.”  This  was  the  type  of  man  who  formed 
the  mind  and  character  of  these  three  young  men,  who  were 
to  be  in  the  future  Apostles  of  New  England. 

In  due  time  the  three  youths  returned  to  Boston  to 
take  up  the  study  of  Theology  in  the  house  of  Bishop  Fen- 
wick. Father  Fitton  thus  describes  the  doings  of  this 
period:  “The  bishop  had  but  one  priest  in  the  city  to  assist 
him,  Rev.  P.  Byrne,  with  whom  he  alternated  in  the  duties  of 
preaching,  hearing  confessions,  etc. 

Yet  in  addition  to  these  laborious  duties  he  had  also 
taken  a class  of  young  theologians  whom  he  instructed  daily 
in  the  science  of  Divinity,  hoping  that  at  a future  day  they 
would  be  able  to  take  part  in  the  duties  of  the  ministry  and 
become  useful  and  active  laborers  in  the  Lord’s  Vineyard; 
and  in  this  hope  he  was  not  disappointed.  These  students 
were  to  him,  to  use  his  own  expression,  like  another  self. 
He  lavished  on  them  every  care.  His  house  was  their  house, 
his  table  their  table,  his  time  entirely  at  their  disposal,  and 
they  lived  with  him  as  at  their  father’s  house,  receiving  les- 
sons in  Theology  from  his  own  lips  and  profiting  by  his 
example  and  experience.  And  his  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart  and  his  experience  “were  second  to  no  man’s.” 

The  Ember  Days  of  December,  1827,  saw  two  of  these 
Ecclesiastics  promoted  to  the  Holy  Priesthood,  Messrs. 
Fitton  and  Wiley.  At  the  time  of  the  ordination  of  these 
young  men  there  wTere  about  six  thousand  eight  hundred 


8 


Catholics  in  Boston,  and  but  seven  priests  in  all  New  England. 
It  is  easy  to  enumerate  them.  Bishop  Fenwick  and  Father 
• Byrne  in  Boston;  Father  Mahony  at  Salem;  Father  Barber 
at  Claremont,  N.  H.;  Father  French,  Portland  and  Dover; 
Father  Ryan,  Whitefield,  Me.,  and  Father  Woodley,  Provi- 
dence and  Newport.  During  the  winter  the  two  young 
priests  remained  in  Boston  under  the  vigilant  eye  of  their 
beloved  Bishop,  making  incursions  into  neighboring  towns 
to  say  Mass  and  administer  the  Sacraments.  One  evening, 
shortly  after  ordination,  the  brass  knocker  on  the  door  of 
the  Cathedral  residence  was  struck  violently.  On  opening, 
our  missionary  found  that  it  was  a sick  call.  Where?  to  New 
Bedford,  fifty-six  miles  away!  There  was  no  telephone  nor 
telegraph,  nor  were  there  railroads  in  those  days  and  the 
stage-coach  had  already  gone.  A carriage,  was  hastily  en- 
gaged and  after  a hurried  drive  through  the  night,  the  home 
of  the  sick  man  was  reached  at  four  o’clock  in  the  morning. 
But  the  poor  man  was  dead.  His  last  words  were  of  regret 
in  not  having  the  ministrations  of  a priest. 

Shortly  afterwards  came  a call  to  Taunton,  thirty  miles 
away,  followed  in  a few  days,  by  a call  to  Northampton,  in 
the  Connecticut  Valley,  one  hundred  and  five  miles  away. 
In  these  days,  when  our  sick  calls  come  from  nearby,  it  seems 
hard  to  realize,  that  we  have  known  intimately,  a priest, 
who  from  yonder  Franklin  Street  in  this  City  of  Boston, 
would  be  summoned  to  a call  that  would  require  the  travel 
of  more  than  two  hundred  miles. 

In  the  summer  previous  to  the  ordination  of  these  young 
men,  Bishop  Fenwick  made  an  extended  trip  into  Maine,  and 
one  of  the  pleasures  that  helped  to  counterbalance  the 
hardships  of  that  journey  was  his  visit  to  the  Passama- 
quoddy  tribe  of  Indians  at  Pleasant  Point,  near  Eastport. 
The  Indians  saw  in  the  person  of  the  Bishop,  their  spiritual 
father  and  protector,  and  their  joy  was  unbounded.  When 
leaving,  he  told  them  he  would  send  a priest  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble. Immediately  on  his  return  to  Boston,  he  wrote  to  France, 


9 


and  two  priests  were  promised  him.  Whilst  awaiting  their 
arrival,  word  reached  him  that  a certain  Puritan  minister 
had  come  amongst  his  swarthy  children  and  by  presents  of 
trinkets,  clothing,  gold  and  silver,  had  attempted  to  prosely- 
tize them.  He  determined  to  thwart  him,  and  choose 
Father  Fitton,  as  the  healthier  and  stronger  of  the  recently 
ordained,  to  go  and  defeat  the  preacher’s  designs. 

Our  missionary  went  by  packet-boat  to  Eastport,  thence 
to  the  Indian  Village,  and  did  not  desist  till  the  preacher,  bag 
and  baggage,  was  forced  to  depart.  This  was  his  first  distant 
missionary  experience.  The  second  winter  he  spent  at 
home,  helping  in  Cathedral  work,  and  on  Sundays  generally 
on  the  out-missions.  The  following  summer  he  was  deputed 
by  his  bishop  to  visit  Catholics  scattered  through  Vermont 
and  New  Hampshire.  The  stage-coach  that  wTas  to  be  his 
mode  of  conveyance  for  years  to  come,  was  sought  and  a seat 
secured.  In  due  time  he  reached  Southern  Vermont,  where 
he  began  his  labors.  These  States  that  are  now  dotted  with 
churches  and  schools,  then  contained  but  few  children  of  the 
Faith.  Here  are  a few  figures:  In  Pittsford  there  were 

sixty  Catholics;  Castleton,  thirty;  Poultney,  twenty-one; 
Wallingford,  fourteen;  Bennington,  forty-eight,  etc. 

Several  months  were  spent  on  this  trip,  administering 
the  sacraments  and  saying  Mass,  where  even  one  or  two 
Catholic  families  were  to  be  found.  As  an  evidence  of  the 
deep  faith  and  piety  of  these  poor  Catholic  people,  deprived 
of  the  service  of  the  priest  for  a long  time  we  have  but  to 
turn  to  one  of  these  towns — Pittsford.  Having  said  Mass 
in  this  place,  he  announced  at  its  close,  that  on  the  following 
day  he  would  offer  the  Holy  Sacrifice  at  Wallingford,  eight- 
een miles  distant.  What  were  eighteen  miles  to  those  poor, 
Irish  exiles,  when  compared  with  the  luxury  of  hearing 
another  Mass?  So,  the  entire  party,  with  one  or  two  ex- 
ceptions, who  could  not  go,  accompanied  him  the  entire 
eighteen  miles,  and  on  the  following  morning  had  the  inex- 
pressible satisfaction  of  once  more  adoring  their  God  in  the 


10 


Eucharistic  Sacrifice.  What  a rebuke  is  this  and  similar 
examples  to  Catholics  of  our  day,  who  absent  themselves 
from  Mass  for  a little  snow  or  rain,  even  though  they  live 
near  enough  to  see  the  church  spires  from  their  windows. 
Many  years  afterwards,  in  the  quietude  of  his  study,  our  mis- 
sionary, recalling  the  faith  of  these  people  and  the  kindness 
shownhim  by  Protestants,  declared  that  for  open-hearted  hos- 
pitality and  kindness,  the  Green  Mountain  Boys  were  not 
surpassed,  if  equalled,  by  the  people  of  any  other  State.  Here 
the  village  school  would  be  placed  at  his  disposal.  There 
the  Town  House  and  occasionally  even  the  Meeting-House. 
Before  or  after  the  discourse  or  lecture,  one  or  other  of  the 
mixed  audience,  generally  a Protestant,  would  invite  him 
to  luncheon,  which  consisted  of  pie  and  cheese  and  a mug  of 
home-pressed  cider. 

He  continued  thence  to  Burlington,  then  crossed  the 
State  into  New  Hampshire,  and  after  several  months’ 
absence  returned  to  Boston. 

St.  Mary’s  Church  in  Charlestown  had  been  dedicated 
some  few  months  before  and  here  his  assistance  at  Sunday 
services  was  particularly  prized.  He  would  walk  Sunday 
after  Sunday  from  the  residence  on  Franklin  Street  to  St. 
Mary’s  with  the  vestments,  etc.,  needed  for  the  Holy  Sacri- 
fice enclosed  in  a spacious  red  bandana  handkerchief  under 
his  arm.  After  Sunday  school  and  Mass  he  would  travel 
back  the  entire  distance  before  breaking  his  fast. 

But  a change  was  coming  for  the  young  pirest  that  was 
to  separate  him  from  his  beloved  Boston  for  an  exact  quarter 
of  a century.  The  jurisdiction  of  Bishop  Fenwick  extended 
north  and  south,  from  Canada  to  Long  Island  Sound.  Up 
to  this  time  priests  from  New  York  City  had  occasionally 
made  visits  into  the  southern  and  western  parts  for  the  pur- 
pose of  administering  the  Sacraments.  In  July,  1829,  Rt. 
Rev.  Bishop  Fenwick  visited  a growing  town,  about  midway 
between  Boston  and  New  York  City,  the  present  thriving, 
episcopal  city  of  Hartford.  He  found  that  an  old  church 


11 


of  the  Episcopalians  there,  was  for  sale.  We  may  form  an 
idea  of  the  Cradle  Church  of  Connecticut  Catholicity,  when 
we  say  that  it  was  purchased  by  the  bishop,  for  five  hundred 
dollars,  plus  four  hundred  for  the  organ.  Over  this  he  in- 
stalled Rev.  Bernard  O’Cavanaugh,  in  August,  1829.  Pos- 
session of  the  church  was  given  to  the  Catholics  in  Novem- 
ber, not  through  direct  sale,  for  bigotry  was  then  too  ram- 
pant, but  through  the  agency  of  a Protestant  gentleman. 
In  June  of  the  following  year,  1830,  came  the  dedication,  and 
on  the  31st  of  the  next  month  Father  Fitton  arrived  in  Hart- 
ford. The  exact  number  of  Catholics  then  in  Hartford  is 
not  known,  but  there  could  not  have  been  many,  for  two 
years  afterward  there  were  but  120  communicants. 

But  Hartford,  at  this  time,  derived  its  importance  in 
the  eyes  of  the  church,  not  for  the  Catholics  it  harbored,  but 
because  it  was  to  be  the  new  centre  from  which  the  ministra- 
tions of  the  clergy  were  to  be  extended  to  all  Connecticut 
and  Central  and  Western  Massachusetts.  Fifteen  months 
after  Father  Fitton’s  arrival,  Father  O’Cavanaugh  left  for 
Detroit,  and  our  Missionary  for  the  eleven  months  following 
was  the  only  priest  in  Connecticut  and  Central  and  Western 
Massachusetts.  Think  of  it.  In  Connecticut  at  the  present 
day  there  are  342  priests  and  395,000  Catholics;  in  Spring- 
field  316  priests  and  323,000  Catholics.  See  the  increase 
from  one  priest  and  2,000  Catholics  to  658  priests  and  720,000 
Catholics,  in  three-quarters  of  a century.  And  remember, 
all  this  in  only  a corner  of  the  then  Diocese  of  Boston,  and  in 
but  a portion  of  the  territory  over  which  our  missionary 
labored. 

From  Hartford  Father  Fitton  extended  his  visitations 
to  every  place  where  a child  of  the  faith  was  to  be  found. 
Every  town  and  village  and  settlement  in  turn  was  visited 
and  stations  established  at  Middletown,  New  Haven, 
Bridgeport,  Waterbury,  New  London,  Norwich,  Stonington, 
Windsor  Locks,  Thompsonville,  Portland  and  Westerly,  in 
Connecticut;  and  at  Saxonville,  Springfield,  Amherst,  Barre, 


12 


Ware,  Blackstone,  Warren,  Webster,  Chicopee,  Barrington, 
Northampton,  Westfield  and  Worcester  in  Massachusetts. 

A celebrated  commander,  when  asked  during  the  activi- 
ties of  a campaign,  where  his  headquarters  might  be  found, 
replied,  “In  the  saddle”;  so  Father  Fitton,  during  his  six 
years  in  Connecticut,  might  have  answered  to  a similar  in- 
quiry, “My  headquarters  will  be  along  the  wayside,  some- 
where in  Connecticut  or  Massachusetts.”  In  most  of  the 
large  cities  and  towns  that  now  exist  in  this  district  he  offered 
the  first  or  certainly  one  of  the  first  Masses  ever  offered  in 
the  place.  In  Waterbury,  where  there  are  now  nine  churches 
and  18  priests;  Bridgeport,  16  churches  and  28  priests; 
Springfield,  eight  churches  and  17  priests;  Worcester,  14 
churches  and  35  priests,  and  many  other  places  not  necessary 
to  mention. 

In  the  greater  part  of  his  travels,  the  stage-coach  was 
the  vehicle  for  transportation.  It  was  not  like  the  coach  of 
to-day,  but  in  construction  something  similar  to  the  type 
made  familiar  by  the  “Wild  West  Show.”  Here  face  to 
face  met  judge  and  doctor,  professional  and  business  man, 
with  a sprinkling  of  women.  As  its  speed  did  not  ordinarily 
exceed  six  or  seven  miles  in  an  hour,  it  was  evident  that  for  a 
journey  of  a considerable  distance,  it  was  an  all  day  or  all 
night  affair.  Many  staunch  friendships  were  formed  during 
these  lengthy  trips  and  the  priest  had  leisure  and  opportunity 
for  explaining  points  of  doctrine  and  removing  from  the 
minds  of  his  fellow  passengers  the  false  impressions  regard- 
ing the  Catholic  Church  imbibed  perhaps  in  childhood. 

There  was,  however,  an  occasional  occupant  of  the  coach 
that  the  priest  dreaded  to  meet.  It  was  the  female  religious 
disputant.  She  generally  was  a near  relative  of  a minister, 
or  one  whose  hobby  was  religion.  In  controversy  she  had 
the  sympathy,  often  encouragement  of  the  other  passengers, 
and  even  though  worsted  in  argument  with  the  “Popish 
Priest,”  like  Goldsmith’s  school  master,  she  could  argue  still. 
Our  missionary  had  often  met  her  like,  and  almost  invariably 


13 


the  disputation  would  end  with  the  usual  re-hash  of  the 
strange  things  going  on  under  the  sanction  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Father  Fitton  had  determined  to  nip  arguments 
with  such  people  in  the  bud,  politely  but  effectively.  He  had 
not  long  to  wait.  Having  taken  the  coach  on  a certain  day, 
he  found  he  was  the  only  male  passenger.  Scarcely  had  the 
horses  started,  when  a female  piping  voice  was  heard  from 
the  rear  of  the  coach,  “Can  man  forgive  sins?”  “Most  as- 
suredly, madam,”  came  back  the  reply  from  the  male  pas- 
senger, and  women,  too,  I trust.” 

The  rest  of  the  party  smiled,  as  if  to  say,  “Look  out,  Miss 
you  may  have  awakened  the  wrong  passenger.”  But  our  good 
Puritan  dame  was  not  to  be  so  easily  silenced.  Again  she 
returned  to  the  attack.  “I  do  not  quite  understand  you, 
sir.”  “Pray,  tell  me  how  can  man  forgive  sins?”  “Well,” 
said  the  missionary,  “let  us  suppose  that  a friend  of  yours 
had  turned  against  you  and  injured  your  good  name.  After- 
ward she  repented  of  it  and  begged  you  earnestly  to  forgive 
her.  Wouldn’t  you  do  so?”  “Certainly,”  replied  our  dis- 
putant. “Well,  now,”  says  the  priest,  “if  women  can  for- 
give sins,  why  can’t  men?”-  The  end  of  the  controversy  was 
reached  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  that  it  quite  took 
away  the  breath  of  the  fair  controversialist,  and  silence 
reigned  supreme  for  the  rest  of  the  trip. 

During  1835  and  thereabout,  sick  calls,  many  in  number, 
summoned  the  priest  in  the  direction  of  Worcester.  The 
Great  Western  Railroad,  now  the  Boston  and  Albany,  was 
extending  its  tracks  westward  and  on  account  of  the  con- 
formation of  the  soil,  many  rocky  hills  and  ledges  were  en- 
countered. This  made  blasting  necessary,  and  as  a conse- 
quence, many  accidents  happened.  As  the  majority  of  the 
railroad  builders  were  Irish,  the  priest  was  the  first  one  called 
for  when  injury  resulted  from  careless  blasting.  Then, 
again,  as  Catholics  were  increasing  in  Worcester,  various 
parties  from  the  town  had  called  upon  the  Bishop  in  Boston 
and  entreated  him  to  send  them  a resident  priest.  For  one 


14 


and  another  reason,  the  Bishop,  at  last  consented,  and  in 
May,  1836,  Father  Fitton  came  to  take  up  his  residence  in 
Worcester. 

Before  we  leave  Hartford,  let  us  go  back  to  the  Christ- 
inas of  ’31,  and  quote  from  a private  letter  written  at  the 
time  at  New  Haven  by  a person  who  was  present  at  the 
occurrence  which  he  describes.  It  reads  as  follows:  “When- 
ever we  expected  the  priest,  we  all  came  together  to  receive 
him.  One  Saturday,  in  particular,  it  was  the  eve  of  Christ- 
mas, and  anticipating  Midnight  Mass  we  were  all  at  our 
accustomed  place  of  meeting,  awaiting  his  arrival,  but  he 
did  not  come.  We  were  certain  he  would  not  disappoint  us, 
whilst  at  the  same  time  we  could  not  account  for  his  delay. 
At  length,  we  concluded  to  go  out  and  see  if  we  might  meet 
him.  We  did  so  and  met  him  on  the  road  outside  of  New 
Haven.  The  sleighing  from  Hartford  had  been  good  part  of 
the  way  and  then  failed  till  nothing  but  bare  ground  re- 
mained, and  his  horse  gave  out. 

The  distance  from  Hartford  to  this  city  is  about  thirty- 
four  miles,  but  the  good  priest  not  wishing  to  disappoint  us, 
determined  to  walk  the  rest  of  the  way.  When  we  met  him 
he  had  his  valise,  containing  his  vestments,  etc.,  on  his 
shoulders.  The  walking  being  rough  and  frozen,  his  shoes 
were  nearly  worn  out  and  when  he  arrived  that  night,  he  was 
scarcely  able  to  preach,  though  he  did  so  at  the  end  of  Mass. 
After  which  we  secured  a conveyance  to  leave  him  where  he 
had  left  his  horse  (for  he  had  to  return  and  say  another  Mass 
at  Hartford  the  same  day).”  Sixty-eight  miles,  the  greater 
part  while  fasting,  through  a cold  December  night.  How 
many  similar  trying  experiences  that  are  known  to  God 
alone  must  have  been  encountered  during  the  long  career  of 
our  devoted  missionary! 

Father  Fitton’s  settlement  at  Worcester  as  its  first 
Parish  Priest,  was  not  by  any  means  his  first  visit  to  Worces- 
ter. From  time  to  time  in  his  early  years  at  Hartford  he 
had  come  to  the  town,  and  for  two  years  before  he  fixed 


15 


his  residence  there,  had  attended  it  monthly.  During  these 
previous  visits  he  laid  the  foundation  of  a church  and  in  this 
first  year  of  his  pastorate  saw  it  completed.  This  church, 
Christ  Church,  was  the  first  one  erected  and  he  was  the  first 
settled  Pastor  within  the  limits  of  the  present  Diocese  of 
Springfield.  At  the  first  Mass  said  by  Father  Fitton  in  the 
new,  but  unroofed  building,  a violent  summer  shower  burst 
over  the  people  about  the  time  of  the  Elevation  of  the  Sacred 
Host.  Three  members  of  the  congregation  procured  um- 
brellas, and  holding  them  over  the  celebrant’s  head,  moved  to 
and  fro  with  him  during  the  Holy  Sacrifice.  The  people 
were  drenched  to  the  skin,  but  not  a single  one  moved  to  a 
place  of  shelter. 

The  first  Mass  in  the  town  was  said  some  years  before 
by  our  missionary  during  one  of  his  first  trips  to  Worcester 
from  Hartford.  It  was  offered  in  an  old  stone  building  on 
Front  Street  occupied  by  a respectable  mechanic,  by  the 
name  of  McKillop.  After  this  in  pleasant  weather  Masses 
were  said  on  the  rocks  near  the  deep  cut  on  the  Boston  and 
Albany  Railroad. 

The  first  Catholic  sermon  in  the  town  was  preached  in  a 
tavern  called  the  Old  Elephant  on  the  stage  road  between 
Boston'  and  Springfield.  The  audience  consisted  of  Irish 
railroad  laborers,  maid  servants,  stage  drivers  and  others, 
whom  piety  or  curiosity  had  brought  there.  “Notwith- 
standing this,”  says  one  who  was  present,  “all  the  audience 
evinced  as  much  decorum  as  though  they  were  in  a conse- 
crated house  of  prayer.”  Settlement  in  Worcester  gave  him 
the  opportunity  of  giving  greater  care  and  attention  to  the 
numerous  colonies  of  Irish  settlers  in  the  neighborhood. 
He  also  extended  his  ministrations  eastward  as  far  as 
Waltham,  northward  into  New  Hampshire,  southward 
through  the  Blackstone  Valley  to  Woonsocket  and  Eastern 
Connecticut  to  New  London.  The  building  of  the  Provi- 
dence and  Worcester  Railroad  brought  additional  children 
of  the  faith  into  these  localities,  but  as  the  soil  for  the  road- 


16 


bed  was  of  a gravelly  or  sandy  nature  there  was  not  the 
persistent  demand  for  the  priest’s  visits  as  in  the  more 
dangerous  cuttings  of  the  Great  Western  road.  In  the  ab- 
sence of  churches,  Mass  was  said  in  the  laborers’  shanties 
along  the  railroad  bed,  then  in  pleasant  weather  under  a 
wide-spreading  oak  or  maple  tree.  Again  in  the  back  room 
of  a tavern  and  even  in  the  bar-room  with  bottles  and  de- 
canters concealed  from  sight  by  hanging  quilts  and  blankets. 
At  other  times  the  village  school-house  and  even  the  Prot- 
estant church;  all  in  turn  were  laid  under  tribute  to  the  Holy 
and  Unspotted  Sacrifice.  We  have  many  times  seen  the 
stout  valise  which  he  carried  in  every  direction  where  sudden 
calls  or  duty  summoned  him.  It  held  the  silk  vestments  of 
several  rubrical  colors,  altar  linens,  a missal  not  much 
larger  than  a breviary,  folded  altar  cards,  a small  chalice  in 
three  sections  now  in  possession  of  our  Sisters,  a bookstand 
that  could  be  folded  like  a carpenter’s  rule,  a soutane,  holy 
oils,  candles,  and  altar  wine. 

But  a more  substantial  and  enduring  monument  to  his 
memory  than  the  honor  of  first  Mass  or  first  Church  or  first 
pastorate  connects  his  name  with  Catholicity  in  the  heart  of 
the  Commonwealth.  Contemporary  with  the  erection  of  the 
church  in  Worcester,  our  missionary  had  purchased  some 
sixty  acres  of  land  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city  on  a rising 
knoll,  called  Pocachoag  by  the  Indians,  or  Hill  of  Pleasant 
Springs.  The  healthfulness  of  the  location  and  the  natural 
beauty  of  the  landscape  surrounding  it,  were  to  a great  ex- 
tent controlling  factors  in  its  purchase.  On  this  beautiful 
spot  he  erected  a building  in  1840  for  the  more  advanced 
education  of  Catholic  young  men.  He  called  it  the  Seminary 
of  Mount  St.  James,  in  honor  of  his  patron.  For  that  early 
period  of  Catholicity  in  Worcester,  the  Seminary  was  quite  a 
grand  structure  with  its  central  and  side  buildings  two  stories 
high  and  extending  to  the  length  of  seventy  feet.  This 
Seminary  opened  with  ten  pupils  and  it  remained  in  opera- 
tion, counting  its  students  from  Maine  to  Texas,  for  a period 


17 


of  two  years.  In  1842  he  deeded  the  Seminary  with  a small 
cottage  and  the  land  to  Bishop  Fenwick,  and  the  latter, 
taking  possession,  placed  it  under  the  care  of  the  Fathers  of 
the  Society  of  Jesus.  On  the  Feast  of  St.  Aloysius,  June 
21st,  of  the  following  year,  1834,  the  corner  stone  of  a new 
college  was  laid  and  the  building  completed  in  January,  1844, 
and  this  new  building  with  the  old  Seminary  was  opened  as 
the  College  of  the  Holy  Cross.  In  the  deed  of  conveyance  to 
the  Bishop,  Father  Fitton  put  the  proviso  that  for  all  time  to 
come  the  property  thus  transferred  should  be  devoted  to  edu- 
cational purposes.  It  was  not  to  be  divided  up  for  manu- 
facturing or  residential  uses  nor  even  for  penal,  correctional 
or  purely  charitable  objects,  but  for  education. 

He  gave  it  into  the  hands  of  the  bishop  for  various 
reasons.  The  first  was  the  absolute  impossibility  of  attend- 
ing to  his  varied  missionary  labors  and  conducting  an  in- 
stitution of  such  a nature.  Then  again  he  wished  by  this 
donation  to  testify  to  the  deep  sense  of  respect  and  love 
which  pervaded  the  very  fibre  of  his  being  for  one  who 
was  not  only  his  bishop  but  since  his  youthful  days  his  best 
father  and  friend.  Lastly,  he  knew  that  the  outcome  of  his 
gift  would  be  the  placing  of  the  school  on  a basis  which  would 
ensure  untold  good  for  the  future  of  the  church  in  New  Eng- 
land. He  had  a high  regard  for  the  Jesuit  Order  and  for  its 
traditional  efforts  towards  imbuing  the  tender  minds  of  youth 
with  a relish  for  the  cultivation  of  the  liberal  arts  and  the 
practice  of  Christian  virtues.  In  his  early  days  in  the 
priesthood,  he  had  confided  to  Bishop  Fenwick  his  own  de- 
sire to  join  the  Order,  but  the  mere  expression  of  such  a wish 
carried  its  immediate  rejection.  The  bishop  told  him  that 
he  was  too  much  needed  by  his  people,  he  was  just  where 
God  wanted  him  to  be  and  where  his  life’s  work  lay.  In  a great 
undertaking  a first  step  well  chosen  is  not  everything,  but 
it  counts  for  a great  deal.  So  if  Father  Murphy,  President 
of  Holy  Cross,  could  with  pardonable  pride  say  in  his  Col- 
lege Prospectus  last  summer  that  Holy  Cross  was  the  oldest 


18 


Catholic  College’  in  New  England,  and  the  largest  Catholic 
College  in  the  United  States,  not  a little  of  the  credit  for  such 
a showing  is  due  to  our  missionary  whose  generosity  made  it 
possible. 

In  recent  years  the  well  laid  out  Athletic  Grounds  con- 
nected with  the  College  has  received  his  name,  and  in  future, 
thanks  to  the  Faculty,  the  name  of  the  original  founder  will 
not  perish  from  Holy  Cross  annals  whilst  Fitton  Field  re- 
mains; dedicated  to  the  “ Mens  Sana  in  Corpore  Sano.” 

In  August  of  1842,  we  find  him  in  Boston  with  thirty 
other  priests  of  New  England  in  attendance  at  the  solemn 
exercises  of  the  first  Diocesan  Retreat.  It  was  conducted 
by  Rev.  Father  McElroy,  S.J.,  and  lasted  eight  days.  At  its 
conclusion,  August  21st,  the  first  Synod  of  the  Diocese  was 
held. 

Shortly  after  the  corner  stone  laying  of  the  new  college 
of  the  Holy  Cross  in  the  summer  of  1843,  lie  received  an  un- 
expected command  from  the  bishop  to  proceed  to  Providence. 
In  that  city  a pastor  of  the  old  church,  who  had  done  very 
faithful  work  and  in  an  effective  manner  championed  the 
cause  of  temperance,  was  weakened  by  his  zealous  labors 
and  a leave  of  absence  was  granted  him  by  his  bishop.  A 
self-constituted  committee  of  laymen,  seven  in  number,  came 
to  Boston  and  demanded  of  the  bishop  that  he  send  back  to 
them  their  old  pastor.  When  he  refused  to  do  so,  they 
threatened  schism,  and  returning  to  Providence,  they  with 
some  six  others  seized  the  church  keys,  books  and  tempor- 
alities and  began  to  inaugurate  a form  of  trusteeism.  The 
bishop  hearing  of  it,  at  once  placed  the  church  under  inter- 
dict. Then  he  wrote  Father  Fitton  to  go  to  Providence  and 
speak  to  the  misguided  men  and  bring  order  out  of  confusion. 
The  latter  arrived  in  the  city  on  a Saturday  evening,  and  on 
the  next  day  said  Mass  and  when  it  was  finished  requested 
the  people  to  be  seated.  He  explained  to  them  the  pro- 
priety and  the  absolute  necessity  of  obedience  to  duly  con- 
stituted authority;  that  lay  people  should  not  interfere 


19 


in,  the  administration  of  church  affairs.  He  then  showed 
them  clearly  that  the  most  fruitful  cause  of  all  the 
strife  and  wrangling  and  contention  in  the  world  lay  in  man’s 
neglect  of  his  own  in  order  to  attend  to  his  neighbor’s  busi- 
ness. Then  in  his  strong  and  powerful  way,  his  sonorous 
voice  rang  out  that  those  who  were  in  possession  of  the  goods 
of  the  church  should  come  forward  and  lay  them  on  the  table 
which  he  placed  before  the  altar.  Deep  silence  for  a few 
minutes  followed  the  strong  appeal.  Presently  from  one  side 
came  a member  and  deposited  the  property  of  the  church 
which  he  held;  from  another  side  appeared  another  of  the  mal- 
contents, till  at  last  everything  was  placed  on  the  table. 

Being  much  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  work,  he 
followed  with  a few  conciliatory  words  and  peace  once  again 
settled  over  the  parish.  He  remained  here  almost  a year  and 
with  his  old  friend,  Father  Wiley,  in  the  adjoining  parish  of 
St.  Patrick’s,  good  feeling  between  priests  and  people  pre- 
pared the  way  for  a proper  reception  to  the  new  bishop, 
Wm.  Tyler,  who  was  consecrated  on  the  17th  of  the  following 
March.  Our  missionary,  on  coming  to  Providence,  had  no 
place  outside  of  the  church  sanctuary  for  chair  or  table.  He 
proceeded  to  build  a small,  one-story  house,  consisting  of 
three  rooms;  kitchen,  sleeping  room  and  work  room.  It 
sufficed  for  his  needs,  but  a three-room  house  was  hardly 
large  enough  for  an  Episcopal  Residence.  Still,  this  was 
Bishop  Tyler’s  house  for  some  little  while.  We  have  an 
idea  of  the  size  of  this  Bishop’s  Palace  from  the  fact 
that  one  who  knew  said  he  could  place  it  on  a truck  and  cart 
it  off  to  any  part  of  the  city. 

During  the  summer  of  1844  the  three  friends  of  College 
days  in  Claremont  were  once  more  together;  the  youngest, 
however,  was  now  the  Superior — Tyler,  Fitton,  and  Wiley.  A 
temperance  parade  took  place  on  the  4th  of  July  bet  ween  the 
parishes  of  Father  Wiley  and  Father  Fitton,  and  shortly  after 
the  latter  left  the  city  to  become  the  pastor  of  all  Rhode 
Island  outside  of  Providence.  This  arrangement,  which  con- 


20 


cerned  particularly  its  three  largest  towns,  Newport,  Woon- 
socket and  Pawtucket,  remained  in  force  from  '44  to  ’46. 
Father  Fitton  had  previously  visited  Woonsocket  from 
Hartford  in  ’34  when  he  said  Mass  for  the  thirty  Catholics, 
then  resident  in  the  town,  and  again  in  the  early  40’s,  during 
his  many  visits  through  the  Blackstone  Valley  from  Wor- 
cester. The  little  wooden  church  of  Bishop  Fenwick’s  fav- 
orite dimensions, 60  x 40,  and  costing  two  thousand  dollars  was 
just  completed  in  Jhis  year.  Pawtucket  also  shared  in  his  fre- 
quent ministrations  during  these  two  years,  and  when,  for 
one  reason  or  other,  Mass  could  not  be  offered  at  the  stated 
time,  aid  would  be  given  from  the  Cathedral  in  Providence. 

The  number  of  Catholics  increasing,  the  bishop  deter- 
mined to  narrow  still  more  the  extensive  boundaries  of  our 
Missionary’s  Parish.  For  though  Rhode  Island,  “Little 
Rhody”  is  not  of  colossal  proportions,  still  when  a man  has 
the  whole  of  it  for  a parish,  with  the  exception  of  one  city, 
he  will  find  it  extensive  enough;  so  in  1846  Woonsocket  and 
Pawtucket  passed  into  other  hands,  and  Father  Fitton  be- 
came Pastor  of  Newport.  Up  to  this,  Mass  had  been  offered 
in  Newport  but  once  a month,  now  it  would  be  said  every 
Sunday,  even  daily.  There  were  then  in  Newport  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  Catholics  all  told.  The  little  church 
being  considered  unsafe,  Father  Fitton  at  once  bought  land 
for  a new  one,  and  in  a few  months,  the  spot  where  stands 
now  the  beautiful  church  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Isle  in  brown 
stone  with  parochial  residence  and  convent,  was  bought. 
Some  wealthy  summer  visitors  had  already  begun  to  make 
their  homes  in  the  seaport  town,  but  nevertheless  the  great 
bulk  of  the  people  were  poor  Irish  laborers  and  their  children. 
Amongst  these  summer  residents  two  in  particular  deserve 
lasting  gratitude,  both  for  the  material  aid  given  and  for  the 
enthusiasm  infused  into  the  pastor  at  the  time  of  his  pro- 
jection of  the  new  church. 

They  were  Miss  Emily  Harper  and  her  mother,  Mrs. 
Goodly  Harper.  This  latter  was  a daughter  of  Charles 


21 


Carroll  of  Carrollton,  the  last  survivor  of  the  Signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  and  the  niece  of  Archbishop 
Carroll,  first  bishop  of  our  country.  They  not  only  paid 
four  thousand  dollars  for  the  land,  but  contributed  three 
thousand  dollars  additional  toward  the  erection  of  the  church 
and  also  gave  an  annual  offering. 

The  building  of  this  church,  which,  even  to-day  is  one  of 
the  finest  churches  of  the  Diocese,  was  to  say  the  least  a 
bold  undertaking,  for  during  its  erection  the  Catholic  popu- 
lation did  not  number  more  than  six  or  seven  hundred  souls. 
Even  writh  the  assistance  of  a few  wealthy  summer  residents, 
the  people  of  Newport  must  have  been  a very  generous  body, 
for  when  Father  Fitton  left  them  in  1855,  out  of  $42,000  that 
the  church  had  cost,  but  $11,000  of  debt  remained. 

Father  Fitton  came  to  Boston  during  its  construction 
and  raised  a respectable  sum  of  money  by  collections  in  the 
churches,  just  as  he  had  gone  as  far  as  Washington  in  the 
early  thirties  to  collect  for  his  little  church  in  Hartford. 

During  the  Civil  War,  and  for  a number  of  years  fol- 
lowing, the  protrait  of  a military  officer  in  full  regimentals 
might  have  been  seen  in  Father  Fitton’s  study  in  East 
Boston.  It  was  the  photograph  of  a lieutenant  of  the  Army, 
afterw-ards  the  famous  w'ar-hero,  Major  Gen.  W.  S.  Rose- 
crans,  “Old  Rosey”  as  his  soldiers  loved  to  call  him.  When 
the  newr  St.  Mary’s  wras  projected,  it  was  he,  then  Commander 
of  Fort  Adams  in  New’port  Harbor,  who  lent  his  valuable 
skill  and  knowledge  of  civil  engineering  to  its  planning  and 
afterwards  superintended  its  erection.  He  was  at  the  same 
time  Superintendent  of  the  Sunday  School,  and  on  Sundays 
might  be  seen  in  full  uniform  heading  the  possession  of 
children  to  their  places  in  the  church.  Some  years  ago,  his 
brother  died  Bishop  of  Columbus,  Ohio.  His  wife,  through 
the  prayers,  as  he  ascribed  it,  of  the  Irish  domestics  in  his 
family,  became  a fervant  convert.  His  son,  baptized  by 
Father  Fitton,  became  a Paulist  Missionary,  and  in  Father 
Fitton’s  time  preached  a mission  in  East  Boston. 


22 


St.  Mary’s  was  consecrated  some  twenty-five  years  ago, 
the  first  church  to  be  consecrated  in  the  Providence  Diocese. 
Whilst  the  erection  of  the  church  was  proceeding,  our  mis- 
sionary received  an  invitation  to  attend  Bishop  Tyler  as 
Theologian,  to  the  Seventh  Provincial  Council  of  Baltimore,  , 
in  1849.  The  Bishop  was  then  in  consumption  and  had  not 
long  to  live.  He  wished  to  attend  the  Council  for  one 
reason  in  particular,  that  he  might,  through  the  aid  of  the 
Fathers  secure  a Coadjutor  Bishop.  On  his  way  home  from 
Baltimore  he  contracted  inflammatory  rheumatism.  In  five 
weeks’  time  he  breathed  his  last.  He  died  as  he  had  lived, 
a Saint.  “Nothwithstanding  his  sufferings,”  says  his 
physician,  "not  a word  of  complaint  escaped  his  lips;  his 
patience  and  resignation  were  superior  to  the  sufferings  of 
the  flesh.” 

It  was  the  belief  of  the  clergy  of  the  Diocese  that  Father 
Fitton  would  succeed  him  in  the  Bishopric.  Bishop  Tyler 
himself  was  partial  to  it,  as  also  Bishop  Fitzpatrick.  But 
New  England  was  then  in  the  Ecclesiastical  Province  of 
New  York.  Not  only  Bishop  Tyler’s  immediate  successor, 
but  his  second  successor  was  chosen  from  that  State. 

In  March  of  1850,  he  returned  to  Providence  and  took 
charge  of  the  Cathedral  until  a head  of  the  Diocese  would  be 
appointed.  Here  he  remained  from  March  to  November  of 
that  year,  and  on  the  coming  of  Bishop  O’Reilley,  returned 
to  Newport. 

During  the  next  four  or  five  years  he  was  hard  at  work 
on  his  new  church  striving  by  his  labors  and  efforts  to  erect  a 
church  that  would  be  second  to  none  in  the  Diocese. 

Unexpectedly,  in  April,  1855,  news  that  meant  much  to 
him,  came  from  Boston.  Father  Wiley,  who  had  returned  to 
Boston  in  1851,  was  reported  as  dying  at  his  home  in  East 
Boston.  For  four  years  he  had  been  pastor  on  the  Island, 
and  had  planned  and  laid  the  foundation  of  the  stately 
Rockport  granite  Church  of  the  Most  Holy  Redeemer. 
Bishoj)  Fitzpatrick  called  from  time  to  time  to  the  bedside  of 


23 


Father  Wiley.  One  day  the  feeble  and  worn-out  clergymen, 
companion  of  Father  Fitton  in  school  and  Seminary,  and  at 
Ordination,  also  his  sharer  in  the  hardsliips  of  missionary 
life,  asked  the  bishop  to  grant  to  him,  a dying  man,  a special 
favor.  The  bishop  replied  that  if  possible  he  would  do  all  in 
his  power  to  grant  it.  “Well  then,”  said  Father  Wiley,  “I 
wish  you  would  bring  Father  Fitton  to  East  Boston,  that  he 
might  finish  building  this  church,  which  I have  begun.” 
“How  can  that  be,”  said  the  bishop,  “for  he  is  now  in  another 
diocese.”  “You  can  do  it,”  said  the  dying  man,  “if  you  try.” 
He  promised  to  do  all  that  he  possibly  could.  He  at  once 
entered  into  negotiations  with  Bishop  O’Reilly  of  Hartford, 
and  in  August  of  that  year,  our  missionary  came  to  East 
Boston  to  take  up  the  work  begun  by  his  predecessor. 

Father  Fitton  on  assuming  the  Pastorate  of  East  Boston 
did  not  come  to  enjoy  a well-earned  rest  after  the  activities 
of  a long  missionary  life.  None  deserved  it  more  than  he, 
but  though  he  was  now  to  cease  from  missionary  travels,  he 
was  not  to  desist  from  labor.  One  would  think  that  the 
building  of  such  a beautiful  edifice  as  St.  Mary’s  at  Newport, 
would  be  enough  for  any  one  man  in  a lifetime,  but  it  was 
only  an  incident  in  his  career.  He  set  to  work  at  once 
vigorously  and  in  August,  1857,  the  “Most  Holy  Redeemer,” 
complete  in  every  detail  was  dedicated  to  the  worship  of 
Almighty  God  by  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Fitzpatrick. 

Little  did  he  think,  he  often  said,  that  he  was  carving 
out  work  for  himself  when  he  advised  Father  Wiley,  some 
time  before,  to  build  of  stone  instead  of  brick,  as  originally 
planned;  for  stone  churches  are  much  more  costly  than  those 
of  any  other  material.  Very  few  buildings,  even  in  Boston, 
were  built  of  stone  in  those  days.  Of  stone  churches  there 
were  fewer  still.  Father  Wiley  on  seeing  the  grand  pro- 
portions and  pleasing  effect  of  the  Newport  church  was 
easily  persuaded  to  change  his  design  from  brick  to  stone. 
And  so  he  planned  what  his  successor  was  to  finish,  the  noble 
Church  of  the  Most  Holy  Redeemer,  dear  to  East  Bostonians 
for  the  past  half  a century. 


24 


It  is  Gothic  in  design — one  of  the  first  churches  drawn 
by  the  eminent  church  architect,  P.  C.  Keely.  It  is  a design 
in  church  building  that  is  a perpetual  sermon  in  stone,  for 
like  the  religion  which  it  symbolizes,  the  Gothic  style  of 
architecture  throws  upwards  its  stately  lines  to  carry  the 
eye  toward  Heaven. 

A few  years  afterward  we  find  him  buying  land  for  a 
new  church  in  that  part  of  the  District  called  the  Fourth 
Section.  Here  at  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  he  erected  the 
Church  of  the  Star  of  the  Sea.  Then,  the  Church  of  the 
Assumption,  in  what  is  known  as  the  First  Section,  was  built, 
and  in  the  early  seventies,  the  Church  of  the  Sacred  Heart. 

Those  who  knew  not  what  our  missionary  had  seen  of 
the  progress  of  Catholicity  thought  him  a dreamer,  as  one 
after  another  of  the  churches  that  dot  the  Island  were  pro- 
jected by  him.  The  last  one,  they  thought  was  entirely  un- 
called for;  that  parish  is  now  the  largest  of  the  four. 

We  have  given  to  Father  Fitton,  the  proud  title  of  the 
great  Missionary  of  New  England,  and  we  venture  to  assert 
that  no  one  will  dispute  the  honor.  We  now  claim  for  him 
another  privilege.  He  was  the  first  priest  in  New  England 
to  celebrate  the  fiftieth  anniversary,  the  Golden  Jubilee  of 
his  Priesthood.  More  than  that,  he  was  New  England  born 
and  bred  and  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  his  whole  life  was 
passed  within  its  borders. 

This  celebration  took  place  in  December,  1877.  The 
festivities  lasted  four  days.  The  first  day  was  for  the 
children.  An  exquisite  program  was  rendered  by  them 
followed  by  presentation  of  valuable  gifts  from  Sisters  of 
Notre  Dame  and  from  the  children.  On  the  fourth  Sunday 
of  Advent  of  that  year,  the  exact  anniversary  day,  the  Most 
Reverend  Archbishop  Williams  occupied  the  throne.  The  cele- 
brant of  the  High  Mass  was  the  Jubilarian  himself,  using  a 
gold  chalice  presented  to  him  that  morning  by  the  Archbishop. 
Old  parishioners  of  the  Most  Holy  Redeemer  will  easily  re- 
member the  strong,  but  remarkably  sweet  voice  of  their  old 


25 


pastor.  Scores  of  clergymen,  in  the  half  a century  existence 
of  the  church  have  sung  High  Mass  within  its  walls.  Those 
who  know  can  assert  without  fear  of  contradiction  that  for 
power  and  resonance,  the  singing  voice  of  our  missionary  was 
certainly  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any  of  them.  Bishop 
Healey  of  Portland,  an  old  friend,  preached  the  sermon.  A 
second  gold  chalice  was  presented  to  him  on  this  day  by  St. 
Mary’s  of  Newport.  At  the  close  of  Mass  appropriate  reso- 
lutions were  read  by  Rev.  C.  T.  McGrath  of  Somerville. 
Then  eleven  survivors  of  the  fourteen  young  men,  who  had 
been  trained  by  him  in  the  Sanctuary  and  were  now  vested 
with  the  dignity  of  the  Priesthood,  presented  him  with  a 
complete  set  of  gold  vestments.  We  may  remark  in  passing 
that  the  fourteen  bearers  of  the  honors  of  the  priesthood  of 
those  days  have  given  way  to  forty  from  the  Island  Wards 
at  the  present  moment.  Of  the  eleven  who  greeted  their 
spiritual  Father  on  the  day  of  his  Jubilee,  the  following  are 
still  living:  Mgr.  P.  J.  Harkins  of  Holyoke;  Mgr.  A.  J.  Teel- 
ing  of  Lynn;  Rev.  C.  T.  McGrath  of  Somerville;  Rev.  John 
Fleming  of  Dedham;  Rev.  M.  F.  Delaney  of  Natick;  Rev.  T. 
F.  Cusack  of  Chelsea,  and  the  writer  of  this  sketch.  Former 
and  present  altar  boys,  former  and  present  choir  members, 
sodalities  and  societies  followed  with  valuable  offerings. 
Lastly  a committee  representing  the  four  parishes,  gave  a 
munificent  present  in  gold.  The  third  day  of  celebration 
was  passed  in  the  Cathedral.  Father  Fitton  again  officiated' 
and  the  clergy  of  the  Diocese  in  large  numbers  assisted. 
Father  Shahan  of  Malden,  himself  a former  missionary  and 
an  old  time  pupil  of  St.  James  Seminary  of  Worcester,  was 
to  preach,  but  a severe  attack  of  sickness  prevented.  After 
Mass  they  repaired  to  the  Sodality  Chapel  where  a sumptu- 
ous banquet  was  tendered  the  Venerable  Pastor  by  his 
brother  diocesan  priests.  The  last  day’s  festivity  was 
given  by  the  Catholic  Union  of  Boston.  Amongst  the 
speakers  at  this  noteworthy  reception  was  the  celebrated 
General  James  Shields,  the  hero  of  three  wars  and  United 
States  Senator  from  three  States. 


26 


Hut  a sketch  of  Father  Fitton  without  mention  of  his 
efforts  for  Catholic  Education  would  be  a very  incomplete 
one  indeed.  One  would  say  that  in  his  day  he  was  far  ahead 
of  his  time  in  advocating  what  everyone  now  acknowledges 
to  be  of  prime  importance,  a daily,  systematic  training  of 
the  young  in  the  knowledge  of  religion.  And  it  is  all  the 
more  remarkable  that  he  should  espouse  the  cause  of  exclu- 
sively Catholic  schools,  because  he  himself  was  largely  the 
product  of  secular  schools.  By  a sort  of  instinct  or  intuition, 
he  foresaw  that  the  progress  of  the  church  in  the  future 
greatly  depended  on  Catholic  Education.  Even  before  his 
ordination  he  had  taken  a lively  interest  in  the  one  Catholic 
school  of  Boston.  When  the  Cathedral  on  Franklin  Street 
was  enlarged  and  school  rooms  were  prepared  in  the  base- 
ment he  found  time  to  engage  in  educational  work  even 
while  pursuing  his  theological  studies  with  Bishop  Fenwick. 
He  continued  this  after  ordination  whenever  possible,  up  to 
the  time  of  his  departure  for  Hartford.  After  that  the  school 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  priests  of  the  Cathedral  parish. 
At  Hartford  he  had  his  school,  it  was  presided  over  by  a con- 
vert who  was  highly  educated  and  deeply  religious.  At 
Worcester,  also,  the  opening  of  the  Parochial  School  followed 
closely  in  the  wake  of  the  building  of  the  church.  Then 
there  was  St.  James  Seminary,  now  the  College. 

In  Providence  a school  in  the  basement  and  one  also  in 
Newport  showed  that  wherever  residence  was  secured,  there 
also  a school  sprang  into  being.  In  those  days  religious 
teaching  bodies  of  men  and  women  were  rarely  met  with,  so 
you  may  judge  of  his  happiness,  when  in  the  summer  of ’54,  a 
colony  of  Sisters  came  to  him  in  Newport,  one  year  before  he 
left  for  Boston.  But  it  was  in  the  Island  Wards  of  East  Boston, 
where  he  passed  the  last  twenty-six  years  of  his  life,  that  his 
devotion  to  schools  reached  its  climax.  Here,  in  advanced 
life,  he  showed  that  the  zeal  for  Catholic  Education  that 
possessed  him  in  youthful  days  had  lost  none  of  its  fervor 
and  so  it  could  no  longer  be  called  a fad  or  fancy,  but  a 


settled  conviction.  Two  years  after  the  dedication  of  the 
Most  Holy  Redeemer,  three  Sisters  of  Notre  Dame  from 
Lancaster  Street,  Boston,  came  to  open  a new  school  in  the 
old  church  of  St.  Nicholas.  This  coming  year,  1909,  will  be 
the  Golden  Jubilee  of  this  school  in  East  Boston. 

During  these  fifty  years  the  three  Sisters  of  Notre  Dame 
have  increased  to  sixty  Sisters  of  the  same  order,  thirteen 
Sisters  of  Mercy,  thirteen  Xaverian  Brothers  and  five  Lay 
Teachers.  And  the  one  hundred  children,  to  thirty-six 
hundred,  that  now  attend  the  Island  Schools.  It  seems  that 
a blessing  went  from  him,  that  made. successful  and  fruitful 
whatever  he  undertook  in  the  line  of  Catholic  Education. 
Our  late  Archbishop  strongly  illustrated  this  in  his  remarks 
on  the  occasion  of  the  banquet  tendered  our  missionary  by 
the  clergy  at  his  Golden  Jubilee.  His  Grace  had  been  a 
pupil  under  Father  Fitton  in  the  Cathedral  School  and 
naturally  took  an  interest  in  it.  Speaking  of  our  mission- 
ary’s success  in  furtherance  of  school  work  he  said:  “ While 
Father  Fitton  was  at  the  head  of  the  Cathedral  School  it 
prospered.  Scholars  were  numerous  and  no  drawback  checked 
or  marred  its  onward  progless.  “When  Father  Fitton  left 
Boston,”  continued  His  Grace,  “the  school  languished  and 
died,  and  this,  under  such  sterling  characters  as  a Tyler  and 
a Wiley.”  The  last  speaker  at  the  banquet  was  the  vener- 
able Jubilarian  himself.  After  expressing  his  sincere  thanks 
to  his  brother  clergymen  for  their  kindness  he  launched  out 
on  his  favorite  topic  and  closed  with  these  words:  “You  may 
say  that  heavy  debts  confront  you  and  the  expense  of  main- 
tenance of  schools  would  be  too  great  a burden.  I say  to 
you  in  all  sincerity,  build  your  school,  and  it  will  pay  your 
debt.”  Twenty  years  before  he  had  practiced  what  he  was 
then  preaching,  for  when  the  Holy  Redeemer’s  debt  was 
soaring  into  the  fifty  thousands,  he  opened  his  school.  The 
debt  little  worried  him  after  that. 

The  subject  of  our  paper  had  just  passed  the  fiftieth 
year  of  his  age  when  he  came  to  East  Boston.  He  was  a man 


28 


of  more  than  average  height  and  of  somewhat  portly  pro- 
portions. His  head  was  large  and  well  fitted  to  his  sturdy 
frame.  His  forehead  was  broad  and  imposing.  An  incident 
which  he  related  in  connection  with  this  often  caused  him 
much  merriment.  A peculiarity  that  attracted  attention 
was  the  growing  of  a good  size  wart  on  the  left  side  of  his 
forehead,  just  at  the  line  of  parting.  One  day  in  his  early 
missions  he  was  thus  greeted  by  a native:  “You  ain’t  a 
Popish  Priest.”  “Why  do  you  think  so,  young  fellow?”  he 
said.  “Where  are  your  horns?”  the  country  man  replied. 
Well,  said  our  missionary,  now  grasping  the  situation,  you 
see  I am  a young  man,  and,  pointing  to  the  wart,  this  is  my 
first  horn  just  beginning  to  sprout.” 

A stranger,  on  first  acquaintance,  might  receive  the 
impression  that  he  was  a harsh  and  gruff  man  to  deal  with. 
Nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  truth.  For  he  had  a very 
tender  and  sympathetic  heart.  When  speaking  to  the 
children  on  a subject  that  deeply  touched  him  or  saying  a 
word  of  eulogy  over  a deceased  parishioner  he  rarely  finished 
his  remarks  without  betraying  in  his  voice  and  manner  the 
emotion  that  filled  his  soul. 

God  fits  the  back  for  the  burden  is  an  old  saying.  His 
vocation  assuredly  was  that  of  a missionary.  Hence  God 
gave  him  a fine  physique:  good  digestive  powers  and  ex- 
cellent health.  When  a youth  in  his  father’s  home  he  had 
everything  he  needed.  When  Bishop  Fenwick  later  took 
the  place  of  parents,  it  was  the  same  story.  His  first  real 
trials  and  sacrifices  came  on  his  mission  to  the  Indians  in 
Maine.  Their  greasy  food  and  repulsive  way  of  cooking,  had 
much  the  same  effect  on  his  appetite  as  the  sight  of  a filled 
dinner  table  on  the  stomach  of  a man  in  sea-sickness.  For 
some  time  after  his  arrival  at  the  Indian  Village,  his  stomach 
rebelled,  but  he  resolved  to  conquer  his  repugnance  to  their 
food  and  he  did  it.  So  he  returned  from  Maine,  he  said,  with 
a full  knowledge- of  the  practical  side  of  the  gospel  admoni- 
tion to  be  not  solicitous  about  what  one  should  eat  or  what  one 


29 


should  drink.  From  that  time  onward  he  determined  to  take 
what  was  set  before  him  and  ask  no  questions,  and  that 
wonderfully  helped  him  in  the  privations  that  he  was  after- 
wards called  upon  to  endure.  His  health  was  always  good, 
apart  from  the  one  ailment  of  his  life,  rheumatism.  This  he 
contracted  in  the  damp  and  chilly  basement  of  the  little 
church  in  Hartford.  It  was  an  annual  visitor  to  his  bones, 
coming  invariably  in  the  springtime.  Sometimes  it  placed 
him  on  crutches  for  weeks.  But  it  did  not  affect  his  head, 
and  so  his  work  went  on.  The  severest  visitations  of  this 
sickness  came  when  he  could  best  care  for  it,  in  East  Boston, 
after  his  missionary  trips  were  over. 

A very  important  acquisition  to  a priest,  who  is  to  blaze 
the  way  into  a new  country,  is  a knowledge  of  the  principles 
of  house  construction  and  of  tools  and  their  uses.  The  mis- 
sionaries in  foreign  countries  greatly  prize  such  an  acquisi- 
tion. So  in  the  pioneering  days  of  the  Church  in  New  Eng- 
land, building  of  house  and  church  being  a prime  necessity, 
our  missionary  found  that  the  more  information  one  had  of 
these  matters,  the  better  equipped  and  the  more  successful 
he  would  be  in  his  work.  His  father’s  business  of  wheelwright 
and  carriage  building  gave  him  just  the  knowledge  needed. 
He  used  to  tell  how,  when  a boy,  he  would  stand  for  hours 
looking  at  the  sparks  flying  in  the  air  in  his  father’s  shop 
as  the  iron  was  hammered  into  shape,  or  watching  the  trans- 
formation, under  the  hands  of  the  workman,  of  the  oaken 
stick  into  hub  and  spoke  and  panel  and  thill.  Often  in  a 
spirit  of  imitation  he  would  take  the  tools  and  try  experi- 
ments. And  so,  in  the  simple  forms  of  building  called  for  on 
the  Mission,  he  had  all  the  information  needed  to  insure  good 
work  at  the  lowest  possible  outlay.  Once,  near  the  close  of 
his  life,  when  rallied  in  good  natured  banter  by  some  of  his 
brother  priests  regarding  his  propensity  for  building, he  replied, 
“how  could  I help  being  a builder, wasn’t  I born  with  a mallet.” 
Having  completed  his  church  building  in  East  Boston, 
he  started  the  work  of  renovation  of  the  stone  church,  re- 


30 


moving  the  galleries,  now  no  longer  necessary,  and  refresco- 
ing it.  In  the  following  summer,  that  of  1881,  he  installed  a 
complete  steam-heating  plant  for  church,  house  and  school. 
It  was  his  last  work.  Scarcely  a month  after  its  completion 
had  passed  by  when  he  breathed  his  last.  True  to  his  life’s 
ideals,  he  died  in  harness.  News  of  his  death  was  quite  un- 
expected, and  the  people  were  greatly  shocked.  No  one 
was  prepared  for  the  blow.  His  intimate  friends,  however, 
had  noticed  that  since  his  visit  to  the  Carney  Hospital,  some 
time  before  for  an  operation  for  cataract  on  the  eyes  his 
health  had  somewhat  declined,  for  the  operation  visibly  told 
on  him. 

He  made  a visit  to  Saint  Anne  de  Beaupr£  in  August,  in 
the  company  of  a brother  priest.  He  returned  from  that  pil- 
grimage realizing  that  the  end  was  approaching.  He  quietly 
made  his  preparations  for  a happy  passage  to  eternity.  His 
last  confession  was  made  to  one  whose  first  confession  he  had 
heard  twenty-six  years  before.  Surrounded  by  his  brother 
priests  he  passed  away  on  the  morning  of  September  15th, 
1881.  On  the  19th  of  the  same  month,  the  day  of  the  death 
of  President  Garfield,  after  solemn  requiem  services  in  the 
church,  sung  by  his  nephew,  Rev.  Joseph  H.  Cassin,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Most  Rev.  Archbishop,  the  Bishop  of  Portland, 
and  a number  of  priests  he  was  consigned  to  his  last  resting 
place.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  funeral  proces- 
sion, made  up  from  the  four  parishes,  extended  from  his 
church  to  Holy  Cross  Cemetery  in  Malden.  It  was  the 
largest  funeral  cortege,  by  far,  that  ever  left  East  Boston. 

It  wras  a matter  of  surprise  to  many  that  his  remains 
were  carried  to  Holy  Cross,  because  it  was  understood  that 
he  was  to  be  buried  under  the  floor  of  the  basement  Chapel 
of  the  Holy  Redeemer.  There  he  would  rest  side  by  side 
with  his  old  friend,  Father  Wiley,  for  the  vault  was  con- 
structed so  as  to  hold  them  both.  This  was  the  reason  why 
he  was  not  placed  there.  Some  years  after  Father  Wiley’s 
interment,  he  had  occasion  to  remove  the  marble  slab  that 


31 


covered  the  vault  and  therein  saw  a sight  that  somewhat 
affected  him.  A damp  and  grimy  mold  had  fastened  heavily 
upon  the  interior  of  the  tomb  and  its  appearance  was  for- 
bidding. A short  time  afterward  he  said  to  one  whom  he 
knew  would  carry  out  his  request:  “When  I come  to  die, 
bury  me  where  God's  sunshine  will  fall  on  me.”  It  was  in- 
deed appropriate  that  he  should  sleep  under  the  sunshine  and 
the  stars,  for  those  gracious  sunbeams  of  day  and  starry 
sentinels  of  night  were  for  years  the  silent  witnesses  of  his 
Apostolic  trials  and  labors.  And  it  was  also  fitting  that  he, 
who  received  the  light  of  faith  and  the  grace  of  Ordination 
to  the  Priesthood  in  Holy  Cross  Church,  and  was  instru- 
mental in  the  founding  of  Holy  Cross  College  should  rest  from 
his  labors  in  the  hope  of  a blessed  immortality  in  Holy  Cross 
Ce.metery. 

A beautiful  monument  of  white  marble  decorated  with 
the  insignia  of  his  sacred  calling,  was  erected  over  his  grave. 
The  inscription  on  the  same  was  written  by  one  of  his  “boys,” 
the  genial  and  talented,  and  at  present  sorely  afflicted 
pastor  of  St.  Rose’s  Church,  Chelsea,  Rev.  Thomas  F. 
Cusack,  P.  R. 

It  reads  as  follows: — 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Rev.  James  Fitton, 

Born  in  Boston,  Mass.,  April  10,  1805, 

Ordained  Priest,  December  23,  1827. 

Long  a Missionary  throughout  New  England 
He  labored  with  zeal  for  the  spread  of  Catholicity 
And  erected  many  Churches  to  the  Glory  of  God. 
Twenty-six  years  Pastor  of  Church  of  Most  Holy  Redeemer, 

East  Boston. 

An  early  and  constant  promoter  of  Catholic  Schools. 

Of  large  and  benevolent  heart 
Especially  devoted  to  the  youth  of  his  flock. 

Beloved  by  all  and  loving  all. 

Died  September  15,  1881.  Age  76  years. 

Requiescat  in  pace. 


